


A VILE Corruption

by richynepp



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: A HEADS UP., Gen, The violence isn't all that graphic but there is mention of Wrist Gore so just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23336494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richynepp/pseuds/richynepp
Summary: A simple mission goes south at The Works, a deep house nightclub in Detroit, Michigan, when Julia catches a rather nasty bug.Might get a part 2 but don't hold ur breath.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 76





	A VILE Corruption

**Author's Note:**

> A fic based on my own artwork, namely these:  
> https://twitter.com/richy_nepp/status/1241225750360944640?s=20 and https://twitter.com/richy_nepp/status/1241513070217662464?s=20

The mission had been simple; intercept some new VILE tech at The Works- a deep house nightclub in Detroit, Michigan- and get out. 

But when did plans  _ ever  _ go that smoothly...

Carmen made another lunge for Le Chevre, who deftly avoided her by shoving off of his current perch and back flipping onto another, landing with all the grace in the world. Her brows furrowed in displeasure as she tried- and whiffed- again; he’d always been best at the game of keep-away, even back on VILE island. As she steadied herself on another old rafter, he cocked a brow, nonplussed as ever, clearly confident in his ability to use the current terrain to his advantage. 

She couldn’t out-maneuver him...she’d have to outsmart him. 

The lights pulsed to the din of the dance music that was so loud Carmen was pretty certain she could feel it reverberating through her bones. She narrowed her eyes as she began to figure out the beat and match it to the flashing lights. 

One, two, strobe, darkness, light change. 

Another lunge for Jean-Paul, another easy dodge. 

One, two, strobe, darkness- this time she swung off her perch, underneath the VILE agent, and used her momentum to swing herself up and over, kicking him out of the rafters. 

Light change. 

He quickly caught himself on another wooden beam, landing upright as the lights came back on- but as the harsh blues, reds, and greens illuminated his face it was clear that her little trick had succeeded. Le Chevre looked at his left hand, which, up until that point, had been holding onto Dr. Bellum’s latest in combat technology. So, where was it now? 

Both Carmen and Le Chevre directed their attention downwards, towards the undulating mass of dancing people. They were crammed so close together it was impossible to see the floor from her current vantage point. The thief in red- or, usually in red, now in a very casual club fit- caught her old classmate’s look of frustration, winked, and then dropped from the rafters and disappeared into the crowd. 

She had to find that device before Le Chevre called for his boyfriend- er, backup. 

* * *

The mission had been simple; intercept Carmen Sandiego at The Works- a deep house nightclub in Detroit, Michigan- and report back to Chief. 

But instead of their usual ACME assigned outerwear…

“Ugh.” Julia tugged at the edges of the uncomfortably short skirt she’d been given. “I understand going undercover, but could they not have outfitted me with something a little more...modest?” Not to mention the shoes she’d been forced to practice walking in. Four inch platforms? Who was in charge at the ACME costuming department, because she was going to be dropping off some very strongly worded complaints after they were through here. 

“For once, Ms. Argent, I could not agree more! This outfit is  _ ridiculous _ ...” Devineaux grumbled next to her, as he also tugged at the hem of his tan shorts that showed just a little too much thigh- and she didn’t even want to start on  _ his  _ footwear.   
“The sooner we track down and capture Carmen Sandiego, the sooner we can be rid of these ridiculous disguises…Come!” Chase huffed impatiently, beginning to make his way further into the club. Julia quickly followed, not wanting to get swept up by the crowd.

Or, at least, she gave it her best try. It was only moments after they’d entered the main dance floor that her and her partner had been separated. Even with her unusually average line of sight, she still couldn’t find Devineaux anywhere, and the strobing lights and pounding music weren’t really making her search any easier. 

One, two, strobe, darkness, light change.

Julia knew that allowing herself to be jostled around in the throng of partygoers wasn’t likely going to get her any closer to her goal, so instead she began to make her way towards the edge of the dance floor. 

One, two, strobe, darkness- It wasn’t until she’d escaped the densest part of the crowd that she noticed the unusual weight on the top of her head. Reaching up, she plucked something cold, hard, and no bigger than the pad of her thumb from her hair. 

Light change. 

When she opened her hand a small, triangular piece of metal rested at the center of her palm. As she tried to get a closer look, someone bumped into her, sending the small object flying into the air. A gasp escaped her as she reached for it, fumbled, and then smacked it out of the air and onto the back of her right hand, as if she’d just flipped a coin. 

Heads or tails? 

A pain rocketed up her right arm and Julia doubled over in shock, gasping at the sudden sensation; her head spun, she felt nauseous, lightheaded, and the surrounding music was drowned out by the rushing of her own heartbeat in her ears. The lights were too bright, the sounds too much, and Julia squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to ride out whatever was happening to her. Somehow, through the spots in her vision and the pain radiating from her hand, she still managed to move away from most of the crowd towards- anything. Anything she could lean on, to take some of the weight off her now shaky legs. The brick and mortar interior of the club was refreshingly cool against her back, even through the fabric of her short-cut sweater. 

After a minute or two the pain finally subsided- for the most part- and her faculties began to return. Something was dripping from her still clasped hands. Very slowly, Julia pulled them apart. Her left palm came away warm...and wet. She was bleeding. On the back of her right hand something flickered to life; a green light pulsed on the small device that had embedded itself into her skin.

The current track hit a mixed record scratch. 

Julia’s mind reeled at the sight, and her pace quickened in- panic? Terror? Shock? All of the above? She wasn’t sure exactly what she was feeling at that moment, but she knew that whatever this was couldn’t be good news. Doing her best to bite back her noises of discomfort, shaky, blood slick fingers picked at the chip. It wouldn’t budge- and pulling at it proved to be an excruciating ordeal.

She needed...she...uh. She really needed to wash her hands. 

“Ms. Argent!” Devineaux’s voice cut through her panic and the surrounding din. “There you are-!” It was clear he couldn’t quite make out her entire... _ situation _ with the heavily colored and inconsistent lighting of the club, but his eyes were narrowed, and the furrow in his brow indicated he knew  _ something  _ was amiss.   
“Now is not the time to loitering, we have a criminal to catch…” His voice trailed off as he finally got close enough to see the state of his partner; shaking, pale, hands stained- the faint scent of metal that undercut the sweat, cologne, and cigarette smoke.   
“ _ Mon dieu _ \- Julia, what happened?!” 

The lights flickered in time with the music and Chase’s gaze was immediately drawn to the pulsing green glow of-

“What is  _ THAT?! _ ” He reached out and roughly took her injured hand in his own, stopping when Julia gasped, eyes screwing shut at the jolt of pain. He didn’t apologize, but his grip loosened significantly, and he was much more careful as he examined the metal chip. 

“Sir, I think we...should call for backup. I couldn’t...” 

“Nonsense, Ms. Argent,” Her vision blurred. He was  _ ignoring  _ her again. “This is clearly the work of  _ La Femme Rouge _ \- once we capture her we will have her remove it at once!” 

“What proof do you have that this is her doing?” Julia asked incredulously, her fatigue and fear quickly giving way to frustration.  _ Anger _ . 

“Who else would be working with VILE? We were sent here to intercept a dropoff, no?” 

He wasn’t  _ listening  _ to her. 

“You’re not listening to me.” 

Her hand throbbed, so did her temples.

“What? Speak up, Ms. Argent, I cannot hear you over this  _ household  _ music!” 

A flash of green streaked across her vision as Julia yanked her hand out of his and snatched the collar of Chase’s partially unbuttoned shirt. Her partner raised a brow and opened his mouth as if to object, but the only noise he managed to make was an indignant yelp as Julia dragged him down towards her eye level. 

“I  _ said _ you don’t have any proof that it was Carmen Sandiego, sir!  _ You never do! _ How many times do I have to say this for you to get it through your thick skull; Carmen Sandiego is not our enemy!” 

There was a moment of relative quiet as the tracks changed, Julia’s breathing heavy as she stared directly into Chase’s shocked expression. 

The music returned as a low  _ thump-thump-thumping  _ pulsed from the speakers. 

“I-” She pulled her hand back like it’d been burned, leaving a dark stain on Devineaux’s lapel- visual proof of her outburst. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Chase beat her to the punch. 

“And what proof do you have that she did  _ not  _ do this to you, Ms. Argent?! It is another one of your  _ HUNCHES _ , like the one you have about how she did not put  _ ME  _ in a coma for two weeks? Unless you have forgotten-” 

“She  _ didn’t! _ ” Her voice bubbled out before she could hold it back, fists clenched. Whatever regret she’d just felt for her physical reaction disappeared under a thick red haze. “Unless  _ YOU  _ have forgotten about the signs of a struggle at the scene of the crime!” 

_ Thump-thump-thump- ‘A breach in the system-’ _

“Clearly  _ I  _ was the one who put up a fight, Ms. Argent-” 

“The last thing you remembered was brushing your teeth!” She spit out her argument like it was poison between her teeth. The club felt too cold- or too warm. It was too noisy, but Chase wasn’t loud enough- and he wasn’t listening to her. “You’d see the pattern in the evidence if you bothered to pull your head out of your ass for five minutes!” 

He never listened. 

A jolt shot up her arm, but...it didn’t hurt this time. 

_ Thump-thump-thump- ‘Shut it down-’ _

She’d  _ make  _ him listen. 

“Wh-” Chase’s brows jumped into his hairline as he dodged out of the way of one of Julia’s fists- the one that now crackled with green energy, veins glowing in the dim light of the club.

“We’re overdue for a proper  _ discussion _ , Devineaux.” Julia hissed, pulling her arm back as she prepared another swing. “And this time _ you’re going to listen to me _ .” 

_ ‘Lose your mind.’  _

* * *

“Any sign of it?” Carmen held a finger up to her ear, back against one of the walls as she maintained a bead on Le Chevre. 

“Nothin’ yet…” Ivy’s voice came through the speaker. “It’s like tryin’ to find a needle in the haystack, Carm!” 

“Keep looking, who knows what might happen if it falls into the wrong-” 

“Guys?” Zack’s voice cut in, hushed, but urgent. “I found the, uh,  _ thing _ .” 

Carmen watched as one section of the dance floor cleared, people pushing into unassuming clubbers as they attempted to escape some sort of scene. It was too loud to hear any signs of a struggle, but she was certain she caught a glimpse of someone’s boot cutting a line above the crowd. What on earth was going on? 

“Zack, details. Now.” 

“I think it’s- I think it’s that ACME Agent, Carm!” 

“Which one?” 

“Uh- yes?” Zack answered lamely. 

“Okay, but which one has the device?” 

“The chick- Julia? And I think I know what it does-” Zack cut off, and Carmen swore she heard a familiar voice yell an accusatory  _ ‘you egotistical jerk!’  _ from the other end of the line.

The current song came to a warped halt, before a robotic voice called out  _ ‘Lose your mind.’  _ The bass dropped so hard the floor shook beneath her feet. 

A scream cut through the din of the club, and Carmen watched as people rushed to clear the dance floor as two figures came into view, clearly locked in combat; the smaller figure lashed out with wild abandon as the larger kept to their back foot, hands held up defensively as they tried to dodge or deflect the hits. Could that be…? 

The thief looked on in disbelief as Julia Argent kicked at Chase Devineaux, who underestimated the reach of her platforms as he attempted to back up out of the way; her foot struck his abdomen and he flew- not just stumbled or fell back, no, he  _ flew  _ back into some of the patrons now attempting to make their way for the door. 

Carmen lifted her hand to her ear. “Ivy, Zack, help get the bystanders to safety, and watch your feet for any molehills.” 

“Roger that, Carm.” 

“You got it, boss!” 

As soon as she’d gotten confirmation from her cohorts, Carmen dashed out onto the now almost empty club.

“Jules-” She tried to call out, but just then Le Chevre dropped down from the rafters, surprising her with a spinning kick to the chest. It was enough of a blow to send her rolling across the ground, allowing her old classmate to take Devineaux’s place on the dance floor. 

“I’m going to need that back,  _ mademoiselle. _ ” Le Chevre lifted his fists- now holding a garrote wire between them. 

* * *

Who did this French  _ bastard  _ think he was, talking to her like that? Just because he was easily two feet taller than her, outfitted with some sort of slick bodysuit, what right did he have- ... _ wait _ . She’d seen that outfit somewhere before. Her detective brain, as fogged over as it was by pulsing anger and the thumping music, reminded her of the man that she and Devineaux had detained in Poitiers. The one who had disappeared without a trace- the possible VILE agent. Her eyes narrowed as she began to circle her newest opponent. 

“You…” She smiled at him. “You’re all the proof I need…” 

The stranger raised a brow, obviously ignorant as to what she meant- but he wouldn’t be, not for long. She’d bring him in, make him confess. She’d do it on her own- without ACME, without Devineaux. Julia didn’t need them. Another jolt shot up her arm and her body responded, jerking into motion as she flung herself forward. The man deftly dodged her first punch, sidestepped her second, and used her momentum to wrap her right wrist in the wire he was holding on the third, flipping her over his shoulder and onto her back with ease. She hit the floor with enough force to knock the wind right out of her. 

The man set a single foot on Julia’s neck to keep her in place and then began to pull on the wire- it was sharp. It  _ hurt _ . Julia gasped out as he began to draw blood. 

“Get away from her!” 

She heard Chase before she saw him- he lunged for the tall man, who looked altogether unimpressed as he once again stepped to the side- and right into Carmen’s boot. The garrote went slack as he stumbled a few paces back, reeling from the devastating kick La Femme Rouge had just landed across his jaw. 

Julia took the opportunity to unwrap the wire and toss it to the side, looking at her arm in...frustration. A small part of her brain wanted to panic, be afraid, be terrified of her current situation, but all she could feel was the steady thumping of anger through her veins. Her hand clenched into the fist, and the greenish glow intensified around her wounds; she watched as the cut around her wrist began to close, as if she were watching an isolated moment in time rewind. Fascinating. 

The sounds of the continued struggle grew muffled as Julia reexamined her surroundings; the only thing that mattered now was bringing in the mysterious VILE agent to the Chief...make him confess. Prove her right. She was right. Unfocused eyes came to rest on one of the speakers on the floor next to the DJ’s mixing table- vacated now, of course. The piece of sound equipment looked much too big for her to pick up, but she moved towards it anyways. Somewhere behind her Carmen grunted, the sound of a body hitting the floor soon followed. 

“Enough of this-!” The stranger growled. 

Footsteps headed in her direction. They sounded so distant. So slow. Julia gripped the edges of the speaker, fingers digging into the edges, metal creaking and static buzzing as she lifted it off the ground. Her veins pulsed green, a vicious howl escaping her as she twisted her body around, chucking the three and a half foot soundbox directly at the VILE agent. For a second his impassive, mildly frustrated expression flashed to one of shock and horror. 

“Wha-” Was all he managed before he went flying into the back of the club along with the speaker. 

The last track finally ground to a halt, and Chase, Carmen, and her two lackeys- who had finally decided to show up- all stared in disbelief at the sparking wreckage that now buried Julia’s mark. 

Carmen was the first to recover, of course. “Devineaux, we need to get that thing off of her.” 

“I-” He faltered, looking physically taken aback that he might actually, for once, be inclined to agree and work together with the crimson rogue that had plagued so many of his waking hours.   
His eyes darted towards Julia, and she noticed how his jaw set. “How?!” 

How indeed. She didn’t want them to take this from her- this new found power. No- no. It was hers, she needed it, she was going to prove- so much…

No. They’d have to rip it from her cold, dead, hand.


End file.
